


It's A Leap Of Faith

by JacquiHex



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 11:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacquiHex/pseuds/JacquiHex
Summary: Adam and Andrew are doing a Tasty shoot in Korea. They discover Steven is only one country away at the time and make some drunk decisions about it. (BasicallyLost In Japanby Shawn Mendes, except Adam and Andrew are the ones that are a couple hundred miles from Japan and Steven will Not stop vacationing in east Asia.)





	It's A Leap Of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day coinciding with Steven Week! Here’s my valentine for you: the best ship. _Lost In Japan_ gives me a lot of stadamdrew emotions, and it makes for some solid [recommended mood music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ycy30LIbq4w), if that’s something you’re inclined to do while reading.
> 
> Just also would like to point out that Australia taught us that Adam can chug a pint in a matter of seconds. This boy has Experience. We need to accept him for the rowdy boy he is. Let Adam Say Fuck
> 
> And this should go without saying but if this story is about you or someone you know personally, consider: reading something that isn’t!! I _will_ say though that there are probably more embarrassing options for you. This is easy mode maybe

The coastal city of Busan is quiet and cold in the middle of this January evening, a couple of hours after the sun’s gone down. To keep warm, Andrew, Adam, and their film crew of two are tucked into the corner booth at a cozy little bar. They’re celebrating having finally wrapped the last lingering shoot of 2018 by indulging themselves in drinks and good company. It’s a welcome relief after cramming three different videos into the last two and a half days.

Now that the footage can be passed off to their editors, Adam has decided to relax and drink to his heart’s content, which in this case is clearly a lot. Andrew’s more than happy to keep a sober eye on him while he does. He never minds restricting himself to the pleasant space between buzzed and relaxed, savoring high-quality spirits in smaller quantities to a bunch of cheaper drinks. Besides, it’s enough to live vicariously through Adam, who is now well into his fifth fruity cocktail, laughing boisterously enough for the both of them and racking up enough of a tab that Andrew feels okay keeping it conservative. All that sugar and liquor means he doesn’t envy the mean hangover that’s gonna hit Adam come tomorrow morning.

Besides—sometimes, when it comes to sweet drinks, Andrew thinks he prefers the look and the idea of them to their actual taste. He thinks it now, watching Adam suck greedily through a straw while Andrew just purses his lips over the rim of a whiskey glass. Bourbon doesn’t need to sugarcoat itself; it burns the same way down his throat every time, until he starts to acclimate to the sting and let it warm his body pleasantly all the way through.

Cocktails _are_ nice. They’re beautiful and exciting, and it’s easy to get drunk fast. They’re fun, but when you’re done drinking and you wake up the next day, the thrill has deserted you and you’re left regretful and, if you indulged too much, in pain. Andrew likes to pick his battles, so he’s content with a glass or two of something rough, something sharp, something that hurts a little at first but soon becomes a comfortable, constant ache that numbs him from his other worries for a while. Safe is better than nice, sometimes.

He figures that’s reasonable logic to live by.

Suddenly Adam snorts mid-sip and loses a bit of his drink down his front. He takes the napkins Andrew offers him and licks the stray drops of alcohol from his lips while he barks out a laugh at something Annie had just said. Andrew’s feeling just loose enough right now to allow himself to imagine the sweetness that might linger in the corners of Adam’s mouth, guilt-free. Just this once. Special occasion.

Adam speaking draws him back into the conversation.

“How do _you_ know where she was this morning? You talk to her that often, huh?” He gives Annie a sly look. “Even when you’re on the other side of the planet?”

Annie shakes her head and takes a swig of beer, unbothered; at her side, Evan smirks at Adam. “She posted about it on her Instagram story,” he says.

Annie nods. “Yeah, Adam. Niki posts things about what she’s doing.”

“Having to check social media all the time is kind of overrated, though,” Andrew chimes in, just as Adam scoffs and digs for his phone in his pocket, saying, “Who posts that often, anyways?”

 _“Most of us_ are online pretty much every day,” Annie points out. “Especially the ones who make their living on the internet.” She tilts her beer bottle pointedly between Adam and Andrew.

“Jesus,” Adam exclaims while looking at his phone, and takes another long gulp of his drink. Andrew leans over to see what he’s looking at, but it just looks like a picture of a nice dinner, posted by Steven. That’s just standard Instagram fare, right? Photos of your food? Andrew does that.

Until it’s two more pictures of the same meal, and then four, and soon he’s realizing that every picture and clip Adam’s been clicking through for almost a minute now is Steven’s. There are maybe three posts by all other people combined to Steven’s every six or so. Adam splutters, taken aback. “This is why I never check these fuckin’ apps, ‘cause there’s just too damn much to go through.”

Annie sits up and peeks at Adam’s phone, then snorts and flops back into her seat. “Oh, that’s Steven though,” she points out. “Steven’s an exception.”

Andrew has kind of stopped listening again. Adam is happily arguing with Annie and attempting to coerce Evan into getting him another drink. His phone is lying forgotten on the table next to Andrew, who is staring at the screen. Steven’s delicate hand is in the frame, showing off his slowly melting taiyaki ice cream while two friends Andrew’s never seen before cheerfully hold up theirs in the background.

The phone goes dark after a few moments. Andrew shakes himself and refocuses his attention on the friends he has _here,_ now, tries to engage in their playful banter.

At some point, one of them proposes shots and the table orders a couple rounds, which Andrew debates opposing before deciding that ultimately it’s no big deal. It’s been a long year for all of them, really. A good amount of their colleagues have been relaxing for weeks already after meeting their holiday deadlines, but the four of them had this series in South Korea to look forward to, and now that it’s mid-January, they’re dangerously close to burning out. Hell, they might already be there.

His eyes crinkle in a smile as he watches his friends over his glass. They need this. So he sits back, gets comfortable, and goes with the flow.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, everyone pays their individual tabs and they grab their coats, ready to call it a night. To Andrew’s surprise, Adam doesn’t move from his seat right away, just waves Annie and Evan off and insists that they’ll see them in the morning.

“You’re not thinking of drinking _more,_ are you?” Andrew questions him once they leave. Adam just smiles at him sidelong, shaking his head.

“Nah, just don’t wanna walk back yet. You mind babysitting me a little longer, Drew?” Andrew can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth at the nickname. He thought he hated people calling him Drew, but he has to admit grudgingly that if it’s coming from Adam, he finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“Sure, and I’ll pretend you didn’t call me ‘Drew’ just this once,” he warns, feigning irritation that Adam’ll probably see right through.

Adam laughs softly, such a sharp contrast to his loud energy from just a minute ago. His attention is now exclusively on Andrew, and it takes him by surprise and makes a warmth creep up the back of his neck. He clears his throat and slides awkwardly the long way out of the booth in lieu of just asking Adam to move.

“I’m gonna get us some water, ‘cause I’m not sure you could make it back to the room like this if you tried. Even with my help.”

“Cool, thanks, _Dad,”_ Adam snarks, but he’s got a goofy grin spreading across his face. Andrew rolls his eyes while he turns to hide his own smile and any more unauthorized blushing that might happen, and walks to the bar.

 

* * *

 

They sit side by side in the little booth and wind up talking for longer than he’d expected. Though Andrew had told himself he was doing a favor by keeping an eye on Adam for longer, he has to admit he’s grateful they’d stayed behind. Sure, they see each other just about every day at work, but they don’t always get to talk like this, no impending deadline to put a curfew on every conversation.

Because they’re a parody of themselves, they get into a stupid argument about whether it matters what type of milk gruyere is made with. It’s unclear how it started—Andrew doesn’t actually give a shit—but Adam unlocks his phone to google it, only to get immediately sidetracked by Instagram, which is still open from earlier.

He taps Steven’s profile, even though they might as well already be browsing it for how much of Adam’s feed is just his posts alone. It’s not long before they’re traveling back in time via the snapshots of his life. Gradually Adam takes over the conversation while Andrew gets lost in his thoughts.

He doesn’t know why he’s caught off guard by the faces he doesn’t recognize, the tons of incredible meals Steven’s had without them. It makes sense, though. Steven was always eating the best food LA had to offer when he was living in California, so there’s no reason not to expect him to enjoy it even more in New York or while traveling overseas. And god, he’s apparently been doing that last thing for what seems like months, visiting all of Asia and clearly having a blast.

Andrew probably feels this way because it’s all so much more than he’s had going on in his own life during the same time span. Home, work, home, repeat. He hasn’t gone out with friends in months. He can probably count on both hands the number of individual people he’s spoken to all winter.

Maybe Adam’s thinking along the same lines, because he’s still talking, but there’s a wistful hue to his voice, which Andrew usually only hears when he talks about either _really_ high quality music or whatever dumbshit inscrutable memes he finds online. Right now he’s talking about Steven in that voice, which… okay, Andrew has to say, he can understand better than he’d like to admit.

The thing is that the switch to working with Steven remotely half the time was so hard on both of them. He knows it still eats at Adam too, because whenever he sees a photo that was taken in NYC, his voice trails off for a minute and he stares. They’re both silent when he pauses scrolling, fingers hovering over a promotional image for the Worth It holiday special. Filming season five had been like heaven, which just made it that much harder when Steven had said his goodbyes and abandoned California for the east coast all over again.

Andrew knows it would have been ridiculous to hope that Steven would come to film the season and see what he was missing, _who_ he was missing, and consider moving back for good. He knows that, so he hadn’t hoped. Adam sets his phone down on the table to take several deep gulps of water, then turns and meets Andrew’s eyes. His own are misty behind his glasses, large and black in the dim lighting of the bar. Andrew sighs and bumps Adam’s shoulder gently with his own.

“I miss him too,” he admits. It’s Adam’s turn to sigh now, thumbing back to his Instagram feed and hesitating when he sees there’s been a recent update to Steven’s stories. He opens them and freezes up immediately. Andrew barely hears his sharp intake of breath.

He cranes his neck to see photos from less than an hour ago of more unfamiliar faces and a bowl of ramen that looks, frankly, mouthwatering. Adam’s eyes snap to his, an intense look in them. Andrew frowns and shrugs.

“I mean, I guess we could see if there’s any good ramen around…?” he humors him, not even sure that anywhere will be open this late at night. Adam just shakes his head and shows him the phone again, pointing to the location tag insistently.

“Oh,” Andrew breathes, abruptly feeling like his heart is caught in a vice. He’s in Osaka. Video plays and he hears Steven’s voice, smooth and cheerful as always, ringing out in painfully familiar laughter. Jesus, it’s only been a couple months, but…

The last two pictures, taken just minutes ago, show the breathtaking view from Steven’s hotel room, the Japanese cityscape sprawling out lazily underneath the full moon. If Andrew walked outside this bar right now and looked up, he would see the same moon.

Andrew slumps back in his seat and momentarily considers revising his policy on getting drunk tonight. Desperate times. Adam hunches over his phone, the screen illuminating his face.

“It’s like, 360 miles,” Adam says intently, like that means something. Andrew tiredly drags a hand down his face and lets his fingertips tug at his lip. Then, after a few minutes, bright as ever, “Andrew.”

Andrew turns his head to look and then gapes at Adam, who is grinning and holding his phone a little too close to Andrew’s face. He gently grasps Adam’s hand and holds it at a more reasonable distance so he can confirm that he’s seeing correctly. The screen is displaying a checkout page for two seats on a flight to Kansai International in Japan, and the flight leaves in an hour and forty minutes.

“Jesus, Adam,” Andrew snaps, snatching his phone from him. Adam, still well intoxicated, seems to misinterpret his tone as ‘completely on board’ because he starts babbling about how easy it’ll be to make the flight, how great it’ll be to surprise Steven with a visit, and then a whole bunch of _feelings_ bullshit that Andrew chooses to tune out. Instagram notifications start to pop up while Andrew’s holding Adam’s phone, and he realizes they’re all from Steven himself, on whose years-old posts Adam has apparently been leaving comments all night. Curious, he taps one, and then presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Adam’s comments are all, well, ridiculously flirty.

Andrew considers texting Steven to apologize and explain that Adam’s consumed _a lot_ of alcohol tonight, before ultimately deciding bitterly that Steven’s never noticed either of their flirting before. If that somehow changes tonight, Adam can deal with it on his own.

He tabs back to the checkout page, the memory of Steven’s face and voice now burning freshly in his mind. His heart is hurting in a too-familiar way, but there’s a less familiar spark of adrenaline accompanying it that asks him, _what if?_

It’s a ridiculous idea, but Adam’s right about how absurdly doable it is. For not much more than they’ve spent on this drink tab alone, they could be in the same city as Steven in a matter of hours. Andrew has hardly had anything to drink tonight, and nothing but water for the past hour, so he has no excuse for how readily he makes a decision and scrambles for his credit card.

It takes a few short minutes and he’s shoving Adam’s phone back over the table to him, folding his arms defensively and bracing himself. Adam just goggles at the confirmation screen, then at Andrew, and there’s a new, intense heat in his eyes that Andrew feels a little afraid of. It’s the same fear he feels about the tickets, though, the same fear he feels about Steven, and it’s a fear that has been buried so deeply in him for so long that now seems as good a time as any to draw it to the surface and acknowledge it. The look Adam gives him is only frightening because Andrew knows it’s always been there, and he’s been refusing to notice it.

It’s frightening because Andrew thinks he might be giving Adam the same look.

He composes himself and breaks out into giggles, a rare sound except for any time he’s around Steven or Adam. Said coworker is starting to look like he wants to eat Andrew alive in gratitude, so Andrew decides to head him off and get them moving before they stumble any further down this road.

“We can make the airport on time if we walk back to the room right now,” he says. That seems to snap Adam out of his spell—or into action, at least—and he goes and pays both their tabs before dragging Andrew out of the bar, into the cool night air.

Andrew feels warm fingers lace through his own on the way. His heart skips a beat and will probably skip more in the near future, so in the interest of his health he tries to focus on just making it to their room.

He lets himself squeeze Adam’s hand tight; it helps numb his nerves for just a little longer.

 

* * *

 

There’s a definite advantage to flying in the middle of the night. It’s a welcome relief to avoid the heavy traffic Andrew has come to associate with travel as a whole. The airport is quiet and dreamlike, feeding into the illusion that none of this is really happening, isn’t real enough to be terrifying yet.

They get all the way through security and to their gate before Adam, mumbling that there’s a bit of time left before departure, tugs Andrew in a completely different direction. He’s dragged to a secluded spot near a charging station, out of sight and in partial shadow.

 _Oh,_ Andrew realizes, a long-stifled fantasy popping to the front of his mind as it unfolds now in real life. His heart is pounding when Adam takes Andrew’s face in his hands and pauses, glancing around them like it’s an afterthought. It’s surreal, seeing Adam tip forward on the balls of his feet to kiss him—long and sweet and desperate and optimistic, years of accumulated intent pressing warm lips to Andrew’s. Adam doesn’t even have time to pull away before Andrew just dumps his duffel bag on the floor, wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, and kisses him absolutely breathless.

He doesn’t know if Adam had intended this kiss to be a quick gesture, but neither of them are particularly keen on letting the moment pass just yet. Thank god they aren’t far from the gate, because otherwise they might have missed the boarding announcement. In the end, their shared determination helps draw them apart so they can hurry to the gate and board in time, but they can’t stop sharing secretive looks and there’s a truly stupid amount of grinning happening on Andrew’s face.

Once the plane is moving and being steered toward the runway, the weight of both this decision and the late hour hit Andrew simultaneously. The plane takes off and Adam watches outside while he vibrates in the window seat, the shrinking lights of Korea making his eyes glitter and gleam. Andrew feels like the air’s been sucked from his lungs. It all feels so unreal, like a daydream. He supposes that for a long time, that’s what it’s been.

Eventually, Adam’s energy peters out and he falls asleep nestled into Andrew’s side, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the muffled thrum of the engines. Now he can’t stop thinking, and it’s making him sober up rapidly from whatever had him drunk enough to buy these seats in the first place, whether the whiskey or the wanting. So he pulls out his phone and connects to the in-flight wifi to distract himself.

The moment he’s online, a few texts come in at once. They’re all from Steven: he hopes that he and Adam are having a nice night and that Andrew is taking good care of their boy, since Adam had abruptly stopped messaging him an hour and a half ago.

_Just wanted to check in on you two, I guess. (･ω･) Make sure you’re drinking responsibly!_

Goddammit. Andrew feels like he may be projecting hard as hell here, but he cannot stop feeling fluttery and cared about. He messages Steven back, asking him if he has any late-night plans with his friends and where he’s staying. He has no idea how much he should tell him—it’s completely stupid what they’re doing, and for all he knows, Steven needs to get up early tomorrow and won’t want to see them—but it winds up not mattering much. While he gets an idea of Steven’s (very light! Andrew tries to quell his excitement) plans through tomorrow, and confirms his hotel address, Steven gets the gist of what’s going on. He scolds Andrew within an inch of his life and then tells him, embellished with punctuation and sparkling emojis, how much he’s looking forward to seeing the two of them, it’s been so long.

He still doesn’t seem to know that Andrew and Adam are _on a plane currently_ or that they’ll be seeing him in about two short hours instead of nine. Andrew is still agonizing over what to reveal and what to hide when Adam stirs, as if sensing his stress, and takes a look at what he’s doing.

Thank god for Adam Bianchi. He’s dozed himself into a more eloquent state, and he takes the phone from Andrew’s hands and exchanges a few more texts with Steven. He hands it back along with a warm kiss to Andrew’s ear. Andrew sees Steven’s last message— _”haha, don’t think that’ll be a problem. I slept the whole flight here and I’m still wide awake, oops… (´-ω-`) might still be awake in the morning when you guys get here!”_ —and then Adam talks him down from the brink of panic, rubbing soothing circles into his restless leg.

Adam does wind up napping again for most of the flight. Andrew is calm enough to last until the plane touches down, using Adam’s deep breaths as a metronome by which to count his own. And when the wait between landing and disembarking starts to make his leg jiggle again and his fingers drum along the armrest, Adam’s there to distract him with some choice cat gifs that he hasn’t seen yet.

 

* * *

 

The hotel is an unassuming building from the outside: simple, boxy, and gray. They’ve stayed at countless unremarkable places over the years, but his first impression is still surprise that such a plain building is holding Steven Lim, of all people.

When they enter the lobby, he revises his opinion. Slightly loopy from sleeplessness and travel, he thinks of the cup of Christ from _Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade._ While the hotel bears a humble exterior, it has an irresistible gleam that comes from within. That’s what Steven is, and that’s what this hotel is.

It’s elegant and sophisticated, dark furniture and warm wood paneling against textured stone pillars, the city glittering through the glass outside and delicate floral arrangements breathing the space to life. He feels like maybe he’s stupid for thinking it, but the decor kind of reminds him of the three of them, a balance of their different and complementary selves. He feels fluttery again as the thought occurs to him, _it all works so well together, and so do we._

God. He wonders when he got this bad, and then in the same breath he wonders if Steven has ever thought of them the same way.

Adam presses the elevator button while he double checks Andrew’s texts for the room number. Once inside, Andrew drops his bag to the floor and fruitlessly tries to shake the jitters from his hands. There’s a quiet huff of breath at his side. When he looks up, Adam smiles fondly at him and reminds him to breathe deeply.

They don’t talk while they pace down the hallway to Steven’s door. Andrew winds up paralyzed before it, hands shaking, waffling on whether or not to text or call Steven to let him know they’re here. Adam just shrugs, lifts his hand, and knocks.

Los Angeles is thousands of miles away right now, but seeing Steven on the other side of the door to let them in feels like truly coming home. Several emotions flit over his face. He looks at once both dead tired and wide awake, reeling in shock but beaming like the city lights and looking soft in his pajamas. The door barely shuts behind them all before Steven is tugging them both in for a hug even tighter than the one they’d shared a few months ago, when they’d said goodbye to him last. Andrew and Adam both sigh and melt into it happily, relishing the feeling of being held closely like he’d missed them too.

They leave their shoes by the door and their bags by the dresser, and then sit down on the beds, Steven on his own and Adam and Andrew on the other. Immediately, Steven pounces on the subject of them showing up at _half past three in the morning, you guys, what are you doing here?_

Andrew sheepishly examines his fingernails, unsure how to answer, but Adam is acting like this is a totally normal and not at all ridiculous visit, no big deal, we just flew to Japan to see you on a same-day flight even though we hadn’t known you were here until literally three hours ago.

“Obviously, we saw your stories and decided you can’t have all the fun to yourself,” Adam chirps. Steven laughs light in reply like birdsong. “Besides, the flight from Busan was very doable. Quick, affordable.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Steven perks up. “How was Korea? I heard through Annie that you were all filming, but _some people,”_ he narrows his eyes at each boy in turn, “never fill me in on all the fun things they’re doing.”

Adam smirks. “I share things, I just prefer quality over quantity.”

“Mm,” Andrew agrees, but they all know that for him, it’s as much a matter of laziness and time prioritization.

“I can’t believe you two flew out here in the middle of a work trip,” Steven yawns. “That’s crazy.”

Andrew stiffens up. Here it comes again—the anxiety eating away at him from the inside out. Adam can tell, of course, so he tugs Andrew’s nails away from his teeth and threads their fingers together. While he strokes the back of Andrew’s hand, he replies casually, “Actually, filming wrapped earlier tonight. We were going to fly back to LA tomorrow—or, today, I guess. Our trips lined up just about perfectly.”

Gratitude for Adam’s continual intervention warms Andrew’s core, and he feels comfortable enough to look up at Steven, smiling. It fades when he sees that Steven is staring at their clasped hands, eyes wide. There’s an awkward beat of quiet before he catches himself and clears his throat.

Shyly, he points between them. “So when did this happen, hmm?”

His tone is aiming for playful and sly, but his smile looks slightly stiff. Andrew squeezes Adam’s hand tightly. They’ve made him uncomfortable now, he doesn’t approve of them and knows what they’re here for and it’s already over, not even a half hour into their visit, before anything could have begun. “Sorry,” Andrew starts, but Adam cuts him off immediately.

“It happened two and a half hours ago, officially, at the airport,” he states bluntly, tilting his head curiously at Steven. Then he chuckles. “Although, it’s been a _long_ time coming, now that I really think about it.”

Adam has to still be somewhat drunk. He winks confidently at Steven, pointing his foot out and brushing Steven’s ankle. As Andrew would have expected, Steven turns bright red in an instant and starts stammering to try change the subject. He doesn’t actually succeed, but he does manage to babble about five different subjects in one franken-cluster of aborted sentences.

That’s when Steven catches Andrew’s eye again, and fuck him but he feels himself fall in love all over again. Every time. Either Steven can read him exceptionally well or it shows more obviously on his face than he ever thought, because he tenses up even more and darts his widening eyes rapidly between him and Adam.

“Oh my god,” he says. “Wait. Is this—are you guys—uh, look, I’m not really the type of guy to, uh…” He gestures helplessly between the three of them, still blushing furiously. Adam gently extricates his hand from Andrew’s and gets up to sit next to Steven on the other bed.

He keeps a respectful distance but rests his palm open between them as an offering on the edge of the mattress. “Sorry,” he admits. “I’m drunk.”

Steven lets out a slightly hysterical giggle. Adam continues as if everything is fine. “I’m realizing that this might look like we’re propositioning you or something, but we honestly just missed you and we wanted to see you. You’re our best friend, Steven.”

“Jesus,” Andrew mutters, blushing, now convinced that giving Adam free rein at the bar was an enormous mistake. Not that he could have ever foreseen this turn of events, but still. Once again, cocktails have betrayed him. Steven looks suspiciously at Andrew, then back at Adam, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

“Showing affection is healthy, Andrew,” Adam quips back. He laughs and shakes his head. “Steven, I can’t help that he’s so obvious around you, or that it took you this long to notice even though we’ve got literally days and days worth of footage just of him giving you that exact look.”

Andrew glares, but Adam forges on. “We promise that we don’t want to put you on the spot. We were kind of thinking the three of us could go out tonight and you could show us around the city. That’s all we’re asking, really.”

Steven still looks nervous and unsure, but like he might be starting to calm down. Andrew, being more sober than Adam, feels he has to chime in. “Adam and I wanted to catch up with you a little bit. Especially after just now, since I’m sure you’ve got a few questions.”

That gets Steven to laugh, finally, and in turn it gets Adam to gaze at the both of them lovingly. Andrew finally relaxes, feels light and warm and hopeful again. “Maybe we can go to a bar or get some street food or something, and just… talk?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steven nods and lets out a sigh of relief. “Except that it’s almost four in the morning, you dorks, and it’s gonna be a pain in the butt to get around anywhere right now. But we can walk to the konbini to get a bunch of snacks and maybe have a movie night back here. A movie morning?” He laughs. “Sound good?”

Adam and Andrew both agree wholeheartedly: that sounds fantastic. Smiling and relaxed once more, the trio tug on their jackets and coats and head downstairs, out into the night, towards the nearest convenience store.

Their walk is nice despite the thick tension lingering between them. They chat about work news between Los Angeles and New York, filling in each other’s gaps of knowledge. They talk about how things are starting to look for the months ahead, when the work year will start to ramp up again after the relative quiet of January.

The FamilyMart is still kind of a novelty to both Adam and Andrew. Adam is curious about all the different candy and junk food that Japan has to offer, while Andrew’s eyes for savory snacks are bigger than his stomach, which is bottomless as it is. As a result, they probably buy way too much for the movie night they have planned, but they’re giddy and happy to be here, so they don’t worry too much about it.

Adam locks Andrew in a challenging staredown by the drink coolers, one eyebrow raised while he dumps a bunch of cans of Chu-Hi and two enormous beers into the basket. Andrew scoffs and retaliates by snatching three smallish bottles of sparkling wine from the shelf.

“Have some _class,_ Adam,” he sneers.

Steven squawks when he finally sees it all at the register, though he’s intrigued by the Chu-His and their sweet, soda-like appearance. When he finds out they have a higher alcohol content than the beer, he makes another indignant noise, by which Adam is utterly delighted.

Andrew is sure that they’re going to continue to act like everything is very casual and platonic for the rest of the night, especially after the narrowly avoided disaster at the hotel. But then on the trip back to the room, Adam keeps initiating these little touches: a hand to the small of Steven’s back at the crosswalk, a quick nuzzle into Andrew’s shoulder while waiting for the elevator. He grabs both their hands and swings them happily back and forth for a whole block, and Andrew genuinely wonders if Steven will combust when he does so. He doesn’t, thankfully, but he very clearly tries not to stare at either Adam or Andrew. It’s obvious that he does, in fact, have questions for them.

He doesn’t ask any while he stashes most of the drinks in the mini-fridge, Andrew spreading out their haul over the bed Steven isn’t using. They chat and endure Andrew’s shitty jokes until Adam leaves the room to go fill up the ice box, and then he and Steven are alone and the room is very small and quiet around them.

Any progress made toward lightening the mood drains away immediately. The tension is tighter than ever without Adam’s carefree energy. Andrew tries his best to play it cool, give Steven his space, not make it weird. After a minute of silence, however, Steven brings it up on his own. He speaks softly, cautiously.

“You look really good together. I’m really happy for you two.”

Andrew’s head snaps up and he stares at Steven mutely, feeling completely frustrated and uselessly smitten. Steven cracks open a soda he’d gotten for himself and settles down onto his bed, pulling a pillow into his lap. He busies himself with picking at the pillowcase while he continues on.

“So, if it’s okay to ask… how long have you had feelings for him? I mean,” he clarifies, “not when you guys became—uh, close—but when you knew. That you were attracted to him.”

Andrew tries to narrow down his focus to his feelings for Adam, but he honestly has no idea, now that he thinks about it. It’s hard to conceive of a time before all three of them were a team. It feels like it’s always been this way, like he’s always felt so, and then he wonders how he never consciously realized that it _was_ this way until tonight.

He’s not sure where the courage to say it comes from, but he starts thinking aloud without really planning to. “The show has kinda changed my life,” he admits. Steven hums, whether in agreement or confusion Andrew doesn’t know. “I love all of our friends and everyone we’ve worked with, especially on _Worth It,_ but… you and Adam feel like family to me.” He considers. “I never really noticed I was attracted to—to either of you,” he drops his voice into a mumble. “Adam made things happen tonight. It just already made sense. Like it’s just been like this forever.”

Steven just nods. “I can understand that,” he murmurs, half to himself. Andrew’s heart races and he waits for clarification, anything, but then Steven just smiles impishly at him. “I can’t believe you were attracted to us for almost a year and a half, _at least,_ and you had no idea,” he teases.

Andrew can’t help laughing through his embarrassment. The simple acknowledgement, ‘attracted to _us,’_ makes him feel buoyant and pleased. So that he doesn’t blurt out something as incriminating as _way more than a year and a half, actually,_ he admits, “I must be the most clueless guy alive.” Adam walks back in the door as he continues, “Because I don’t think I even realized until it actually happened how weird and wrong LA was going to feel without you.”

Steven _‘hmm’_ s nervously, looking up at Adam with a cocktail of guilt and worry written all over his face. Adam just sets the ice bucket next to the TV and leans back against the dresser, smiling a bit sadly at him.

“It’s okay,” Adam assures him. “Andrew and I are on the same page. I took the move pretty hard too. We both did.”

No one speaks for a beat, none of them exactly sure what to say.

“We wanted season five to be really special for you,” Adam remembers suddenly. Andrew absorbs himself in picking at his fingernails again as Adam reminisces aloud, Steven looking enraptured by the new context of the memories of those shoots. It really had been, hadn’t it? Andrew realizes along with Steven that season five had essentially been a love letter to him in practice. He’d figured at the time that it was just nice to let Steven have those special experiences that they all knew were dear to his heart, taking the show from New York to Japan while enjoying family-style meats at home in Los Angeles. They’d capped it all off by hosting a domestic as hell house party together, for fuck’s sake.

Sure, the show is still Steven’s, and a collaborative effort between all three of them—but now it’s obvious how blatantly those moments were actually offerings, his and Adam’s hearts freely and openly given.

“I’m sorry,” Steven whispers after Adam’s recollections have trailed off, and Andrew shakes his head violently in protest. Steven laughs weakly. “Yeah, I don’t know why I’m apologizing. The move was supposed to be—it _was_ a good thing, and New York is a part of my heart too.” He lets out a sigh that has a shudder to it. “I never thought it would hurt you two this much,” he admits.

“No, Steven,” Adam insists. Andrew pipes up again.

“I know it was hard for you too, though,” he says. “None of us ever blamed you, or… It was important to you to do it.”

“It was important, and it was the right thing, and it was still hard for me,” Steven agrees. He seems on the edge of a precipice that both Andrew and Adam just want to catch him safely from. Steven sets aside his soda and clasps his hands loosely as he takes his first step of faith.

“That move was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. And maybe you feel like _you’re_ clueless, Andrew, but it… it took that change for me to notice some stuff, too.” He pauses before continuing, and Andrew holds his breath.

“I just kept telling myself it would get better over time. And then you—you two had to go and make the last season so—so—” He sighs in frustration. “We started filming that first intro together, and it kinda felt like I’d never even left. And I thought, oh, everything’s going to be fine, I’ll always have another season to look forward to.” His eyes gloss over, and he inhales deeply. “And then…”

Steven’s fingers grip the pillowcase. Adam sighs, almost too softly to notice, and then Steven starts to crumble.

“And then I flew back h-home,” he whimpers, stumbling over the word, “after filming was done, and it was just… the day I first moved all over again.”

“Oh, Steven,” Andrew sighs, but Steven just looks up at him and pins him with a desperate stare, and then Adam.

“You two are _so lucky,”_ he whispers brokenly, and he looks terrified and loathe to admit it. He wrenches his gaze to the ceiling and blinks over and over again while Adam and Andrew are drawn helplessly to him, grounding him with their hands on his own.

They figure it’s time to set up, then, making a nest of blankets and pillows on the bed. They give Steven the best snacks and pull up Netflix on the television. Meanwhile, they take turns holding his hands gently, soothingly, stroking each shiver away. Soon enough he’s stopped hiccuping little sobs and they’re turning down the lights, Adam and Andrew making a challenge out of trying to get him to smile and giggle again.

Andrew volunteers to take the middle of the bed so Adam and Steven can lean back against the headboard. He settles himself and a couple of pillows between their thighs. Adam chooses something easy to watch and then sets the remote aside, starting to gently run his fingers through Andrew’s hair.

Andrew sighs and lets his eyes slip shut at the feeling, feels the solid weight of their legs beneath his head. Behind him, Steven lets out another shaky exhale. Adam meets Steven’s eye and nods at him with encouragement, so he tentatively lets himself comb through the soft golden strands of hair. Andrew cranes his neck to glance back and allow himself to just look, adoration blossoming in a huge, unabashed grin. He sees Steven, looking awestruck like it’s the loveliest thing he’s ever been allowed.

 

* * *

 

Andrew falls asleep first. Adam, who still feels a bit more rested from the plane, lets his head drop to Steven’s shoulder. Two episodes later, Steven is still gently stroking Andrew’s hair and tucking feathery strands behind his ear while he breathes evenly, face soft and unworried in sleep.

Adam hears Steven murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, “This is both of you?”

“And you, if you’ll have us,” Adam quietly says back, and Steven exhales. Adam grins. “You know it’s always been the three of us.”

“I love you both so much,” Steven sighs, and then giggles: “Okay, yes,” after Adam presses a soft kiss to the crook of Steven’s neck. He angles his face back up and they come together, Adam breathing in the feeling of kissing Steven, his eyes sliding shut as Steven shyly cups his jaw, fingernails nudging the edge of his beard. They part after a minute; Steven is flushed and giddy, his eyelashes still clumped together from being wet earlier. Adam’s arm snakes around his waist and Steven returns the gesture twofold, hugging him tightly with both arms. Adam feels relieved and comfortable enough to fall asleep here, so he does, feeling warm where Andrew and Steven press against his side.

They only wake up once after a couple of hours when Andrew stirs and abruptly, wordlessly moves the food wrappers and TV remote to the floor. He rearranges the three of them so that he’s sandwiched tightly between his boyfriends under the fluffy comforter.

“‘S long as I get the middle spot next,” Steven mumbles as he wraps himself around Andrew’s back, discouraging any further disturbances. Andrew only grunts in response, not really awake enough to argue.

Adam finally thinks, just as he drifts back off in the safety of Andrew’s arms, that he can’t actually believe they’re here, that Andrew took him up on making this flight, that their coworkers probably don’t even realize they’re in another country and not asleep at the hotel in Busan. But as Andrew buries his nose into the nape of Adam’s neck, his lips twitching in his sleep, Adam decides not to dwell on it.

The three of them rest long after the January sun glimmers low over the city outside, slotted perfectly together like puzzle pieces, illuminated by the soft glow of morning. Japan stirs beneath them while their room sits frozen in time.

**Author's Note:**

> (Andrew voice) yeeeEEEESSSS!!! YASSSS!! YASSSS!! I GOT TWO FREE TACOS [[warning: loud]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bpax7InXIyI)
> 
> i'm at [fervidusships](https://fervidusships.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


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